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Baptism and Childhood. 303
The King of kings, when He was born, Had not so much for outward ease ;
By Him such dressings were not worn, Nor such-like swaddling-clothes as these.
Sweet baby, then forbear to weep ;
Be still, my babe ; sweet baby, sleep.
Within a manger lodged thy Lord,
Where oxen lay, and asses fed : Warm rooms we do to thee afford,
An easy cradle or a bed. Sweet baby, then forbear to weep ; Be still, my babe ; sweet baby, sleep.
The wants that He did then sustain
Have purchased wealth, my babe, for thee ;
And by His torments and His pain Thy rest and ease secured be.
My baby, then forbear to weep ;
Be still, my babe ; sweet baby, sleep.
Thou hast, yet more, to perfect this,
A promise and an earnest got Of gaining everlasting bliss,
Though thou, my babe, perceiv'st it not; Sweet baby, then forbear to weep ; Be still, my babe ; sweet baby, sleep.
George Wither. 1641.
CCLXXXV,
Sleep well, my dear ; sleep safe and free ; The holy Angels are with thee, Who always see thy Father's face, And never slumber, nights nor days. |
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